Those Nights
by Rae TB
Summary: It was just one of those nights. One of the best nights of their lives. Post justice five tournament, Garland has Brooklyn move in with him. But can Garland give him what he needs? Especially when they begin to fall in love? GarlandBrooklyn.


Oh yeah, guess who has her groove back? Rae doessssss!

Speaking of which, I recently went through and counted all my old Brooklyn stories. This is number twenty-five…meaning that a whole page of the Brooklyn section has now been contributed by me. Ouch, scary huh? I imagine it would kind of suck if someone loved Brooklyn and hated my fics. I _might_ have the most Brooklyn fics of anyone posted up, but don't quote me on that. I know FlamesofFury has twenty-something himself.

Anyway, this was pretty much entirely brought to life by a roleplay I did with authorfanatic101. Some of the situations such as the final scene were inspired by it. Nothing is copied directly word for word mind you, but she deserves credit for being the best Garland ever in a roleplay and sparking the idea for this.

And yes, I am trying to make her blush.

I also realized during our rp that some of my past stories sort of idealized Brooklyn rather than focusing on his dark and more than slightly frightening side. For this one, I tried to include a variety of his different sides. I also came to the conclusion I was too harsh on Garland in the past, so this'll go a little easier on the poor guy.

And just to warn all you Hiro lovers – this story is told in the third person but the storyteller is closest to Garland, and Garland is not a Hiro fan in this story. Meaning Garland is going to do some light Hiro bashing. It's possible to see Hiro's dialogue as warranting the insults, but you can also see him as trying to get Garland to do what's best for himself and Brooklyn. I'll leave that interpretation entirely up to you.

Also, I'm kind of peeved at the end of Beyblade for just showing a smiley Brooklyn and being all: "Oh yeahs, he's totallllllllly happy now." Sure. All that psychosis is just going to go away overnight. And I'm a Brooklyn hating, Ming Ming loving fangirl.

But despite this being about Brooklyn still being a little nutty after the series ends, this story is not angst except for the beginning. If anything, it's fluff by the end. I know, I'm shocked I wrote fluff too. Oh, and I switched up my writing style for this one. Not sure if I'll use it again.

I dedicate this to authorfanatic101, and with that said…on with the chaos!

XXXXXXXX

It was just one of those nights.

One of the worst nights of their lives.

The kind where Brooklyn thrashed relentlessly in his sleep and the reasonable part of his brain became estranged from his body. Everything turned against him when he had those fitful moments of attempted slumber. The covers that were normally such a comfort and shield to the outside world would trap him, pinning his body to the bed like a prison while both suffocating and smothering him. His open windows leading to the outside would cast twisted and distorted shadows of doubt, the sporadic bits of light from the moon doing little to soothe him. The light wind sounded like screeching howls of agony as they spoke to him promising threats, death, and suffering in the most violent way possible.

He would toss. He would turn. He would hiss.

His fingers clawed at the air incessantly, reaching out for something that not even he could see. Muffled screams would rip through the room, chilling the spine as they disappeared completely, leaving only a timid whine behind. These nights were a fight for Brooklyn's sanity, for his peace of mind. Garland never knew what he was battling - perhaps nightmares? It could have just as easily been memories of the past, worries from the present, or concern about his future.

Most likely, Brooklyn was fighting himself.

Garland had always wanted to ask what it was. He never did.

"Brooklyn…" Garland's voice cut through the quiet that had settled as he approached his friend's huddled form. His steps were cautious and thoughtful, determined to make the floorboards creak a minimal amount. He knew better than to startle the frightened boy further.

"No. Go away. Go away!" His words came out as nothing more than a terrified wail of a voice. Momentarily, Garland stopped walking.

Brooklyn was backed against the wall his bed was pushed up against. His face was buried into the obnoxiously bright floral wallpaper, his fingers clawing incessantly against it. Light tremors shook his body, his breathing coming out in heavy and raspy bursts as his fingernails dug into the ugly print before him. During his desperate struggle he would occasionally release a strangled whimper, or mumble incoherently to himself.

"Brooklyn." Garland spoke clearer this time, taking confident and heavy strides. Brooklyn had reached the part of his meltdown where Garland had to be more firm with him. He didn't enjoy using the harsher tone he took on. It wasn't pleasant for him to harden his eyes at someone he cared so much for. But he would force himself to do it, if that's what it took.

His sacrifice paid off. Brooklyn had heard him, and his head snapped up. Their gazes met. Garland stood firm. Recognition flashed in Brooklyn's eyes, his hands ceasing their clawing, his sounds of pain disappearing, and his shaking becoming less obvious. The terrified daze that had taken a hold of him was weakening.

Garland sighed in relief. The bed shifted as he sat down, putting a hesitant arm around Brooklyn, and pulling him close. The redhead jerked away, then relented, resting against his friend. Slowly, comfortingly, Garland stroked his companion's bright orange locks of hair, twisting them in his fingers. A sturdy grip kept the wriggling boy in place, loosening only when Brooklyn wrapped his arms tightly around him. Garland paused, considering his next move. He opened his mouth. But no noise came out, and he shut it swiftly.

There were a million things that could have been said between them that would convey Garland's support and care.

He said none of them, and somehow the quiet that ensued meant more than any words would have.

XXXXXXXX

"Morning Brook. Rough night, huh?"

Brooklyn sat down in his seat heavily, plopping his face on the table with a disgruntled moan. He shot an appraising look in Garland's direction, his fingers tapping the tabletop in boredom. The incessant sound bothered Garland. He did nothing to indicate that.

"You're especially cheery considering what happened last night."

Garland grinned and sat before Brooklyn, passing him a steaming mug of hot coffee. It was black – the way he liked it best. The prodigy stared into it, shifting the heated liquid around, watching it slosh against the sides. His brow furrowed. He was starting to realize Garland knew him better than he would have ever wanted him to.

"You're fine now, and that's what matters most." The words were said casually, as though they were a normal thing to say. For Brooklyn, they weren't.

Brooklyn growled. Garland only smiled. The sound of a mug impacting with the tabletop echoed in the room. Garland watched some of the coffee splash out and calmly wiped it away with a napkin. Brooklyn's hard gaze turned on him, his eyes scanning him in distrust.

Garland had taken him in and allowed him to stay at his place after the destruction of BEGA. Despite Brooklyn's occasional "moments" Garland stood by him loyally, and it disturbed his houseguest to no end. He held Brooklyn when he freaked out, comforted him when he held back his tears, and soothed him when he was angry. All of his actions were unsolicited, and all of them were suspicious.

No one had ever stayed by his side for any reason but his power. Even then, his negative traits soon became too much for anyone looking to befriend him and they left. Garland should have been long gone by now.

So why wasn't he?

"What is it you want Garland? Stop playing games with me." His voice teemed with irritation. Garland just leaned back in his seat.

"I want you to be happy."

Brooklyn shot up out of his chair, knocking it over with a noisy crash. He stalked toward Garland predatorily until he stood before him. He leaned forward, slamming his hand onto the surface below him. The coffee shook. Garland was annoyed to note more of it spilling out.

"I don't understand you. Your comfort, the touches you give me, your toleration of _everything_ …It makes no sense," Brooklyn hissed. His teeth were grit together aggressively, grinding against one another. He had formed his left hand into a tight fist which was now shaking. His breathing was ragged. "None of this makes any sense."

Garland stayed quiet, watching Brooklyn's every action as he leaned against the table, propping himself up by an elbow. He waited for the room to go silent and for Brooklyn to stop seething. When Garland finally spoke, he did so in quiet and comforting tones, making sure that Brooklyn would have to strain to hear him.

"It doesn't have to."

Bitterly, Brooklyn grabbed his coffee and exited the room. Garland cleaned up the mess he had left behind.

XXXXXXXX

Garland had come to realize that empathy was not one of Brooklyn's strong points. He hadn't grasped the depths of the devastation he had delivered to Kai after their first match. He didn't get why Tyson's teammates had rallied behind him and been so concerned for him. He couldn't understand Garland's feelings for him, and he certainly wouldn't realize why Hiro's presence in their home caused him such immense agitation.

Annoyingly enough, it was completely within Hiro's character to come and go as he pleased. He would travel somewhere looking for something interesting, at times wandering aimlessly in search of no particular destination. Once he found it – that "thing" that could entertain him - he would stay for a while. Once he lost interest, he left and would only return if he could regain fascination in it. Brooklyn was the type of person that would be intriguing for a short amount of time whenever he saw him. Therefore, Hiro kept coming back.

Clearly, Garland had not succeeded at letting Hiro know he wasn't wanted. Either that, or the man just didn't care. Both were a definite possibility in his mind.

"Hiro. It's been awhile." Garland's smile felt strained even to him, his body tense, and his eyes watching Hiro piercingly. The older man looked out the window idly his expression firm yet unreadable. It was often hard to tell what was on his mind at any given time.

Garland hated that.

"Where's Brooklyn?"

"Outside. Where else?"

"I'm looking out the window – I don't see him."

"He's in the back of the house."

Hiro let out a small hum in response, starting to walk toward where he was told he could find Brooklyn. He stopped suddenly, and turned to face Garland again, having apparently changed his mind.

"I hope you realize there is nothing you can do for him. You're only wasting your time."

Garland started to peer outside the same way Hiro had just moments earlier. The grass was beginning to die, he noticed absently. They hadn't had any rain for a while. He would probably have to go outside and take care of it himself. Maybe Brooklyn could do it. That would be a chore he would enjoy more than any of the others Garland could think of.

He glanced back at Hiro as though the man were an afterthought. In Garland's opinion, he was.

"Helping Brooklyn is never a waste of time." His voice was firm with undertones of tightly leashed distaste. His thoughts were clouded now, weighed down by harsh feelings. Somewhere in the back of Garland's mind, he vaguely registered the sound of the back door creaking open and clicking shut. Brooklyn was back inside. Garland was too distracted to make anything of it.

"You don't get it Garland! He's just like a child. He throws tantrums when he doesn't get his way, he acts like a spoiled brat who is entitled to whatever he wants…" Hiro trailed and paused momentarily trying to choose his words with more tact. "He lacks understanding of anybody's pain other than his own. He doesn't work, or use his power responsibly. These aren't things you can help him with. He needs to figure them out on his own…you'll only make his dependency issues worse if you stick around." If anybody else had said those words, Garland would think they sounded like a desperate plea for him to leave. But Hiro did not plead, and he certainly wasn't desperate.

Garland snorted in response, using fast and heavy strides to approach Hiro. He stopped when there was still a reasonable amount of space between them, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Being alone is what caused this Hiro. Growing up, he had no one. No role models, no friends. How was he supposed to learn any of those skills you mentioned if there wasn't anyone around to teach them to him? How will he learn them now if I just leave him on his own?" Steadily, his voice was becoming more offended. "Brooklyn is capable of growing if he's given patience and support. But you wouldn't know what it means to give him any of those things, would you?"

Garland's eyes flared once he finished speaking. He had no respect for this man. Brooklyn had begun to look up to him and in return, Hiro had broken him. He had used Brooklyn so Tyson would have a stronger opponent to face, and once the deed was done with, he left.

"Do what you want, I won't stop you. But if you stick around long enough for him to bring you down with him, you're a fool." Hiro turned sharply on his heel, making his way toward the nearest exit.

"Thought you wanted to see Brooklyn." Garland couldn't help but feel a little smug at the knowledge that he had riled Hiro up this much.

"I changed my mind."

Hiro slammed the door on his way out. This only served to make Garland smugger.

XXXXXXXX

Brooklyn was in the last room Garland searched for him in. His legs were drawn to his chest, and his teal eyes were glazed. Pale fingers were buried inside his brightly colored hair, gripping and pulling at it. "I'm dragging you down," he stated simply. Garland was displeased to discover a tremor in his voice.

"You heard us then." Brooklyn nodded his head in confirmation. Garland flinched but continued speaking, "You're not dragging me down Brooklyn. I wouldn't let that happen."

Silence settled between them. Garland found that happened a lot.

"Do you think I'm childish?" He sounded very small when he spoke and looking him over, Garland realized it wasn't only his tone of voice which had become that way. Brooklyn had balled himself up as though he wanted to disappear. He looked extremely vulnerable. Garland supposed that was due to the fact he was.

He quickly joined Brooklyn, sitting next to him. He didn't hesitate to pull Brooklyn into his lap, cradling him tenderly. There was another break in their conversation, but Garland was starting to think these pauses were a good thing. Brooklyn needed time to sort his feelings out, and he had an eerie way of speaking to people without saying a word.

"I think there are certain things about you that are childlike…but they aren't all negative. I enjoy a lot of them actually." Garland gave him a small squeeze to let him know he was there for him. It wasn't necessary. Brooklyn was always very aware of his presence.

"Oh…" Brooklyn frowned slightly. "I still don't understand you." Garland chuckled lightly in response, resting his chin on top of Brooklyn's head. His hand stroked Brooklyn's back, the redhead shivering beneath his touch. Months prior, he would have struggled if Garland attempted to touch him at all. Now however, it felt right.

"It doesn't seem to bother you as much as it did before," Garland pointed out. He had no idea if he was referring to Brooklyn's lack of comprehension, or the warmth he now showered him with regularly.

"I can't understand everything." Garland grinned. He was a fast learner. Carefully, he tilted Brooklyn's head to face him, stroking his cheek thoughtfully. He was pretty beautiful too.

Brooklyn tilted his neck back, looking at the ceiling. A variety of emotions flashed across his face before he settled on giving the devious smile he often gave right before he did something he wasn't supposed to. Somehow, that made him slightly less beautiful, and slightly more frightening. Garland froze up, watching him worriedly as Brooklyn put a hand on the back of his head, grabbing him by his hair and tugging him forward.

"Brooklyn…What are you-"

His words were effectively muffled by Brooklyn's lips. It wasn't an especially tender kiss, nor was it given with any sort of skill. Brooklyn was both clumsy and sloppy in his display of affection. It was obvious he had never done this before, and had no idea what he was doing.

Garland couldn't comprehend why it still felt better than any other kiss he could have possibly received would.

Brooklyn pulled away before Garland had a chance to react. The prodigy had caused him to freeze up completely. His eyes were wide and unmoving, and his mouth was hanging open slightly. Brooklyn grinned.

"Then again, you can't understand everything either."

Garland watched as Brooklyn walked away. He was right.

But he would give up almost anything in exchange for understanding Brooklyn.

XXXXXXXX

Garland never bothered to talk to Brooklyn about the kiss. After the Justice Five tournament, his behavior had become increasingly erratic. There was a good chance it had just been done on a whim, with no real feelings behind it. If that were the case, Garland didn't want to know the truth.

"Claudia should leave John for Steve," Brooklyn commented off-handedly.

"What?"

With a sweep of his hand, Brooklyn motioned to the television. Garland noticed for the first time that a cheesy romantic movie was on. He frowned. Of all the things Brooklyn could be watching, why that? "Brooklyn, those types of things are ridiculous. You should shut it off."

Brooklyn continued to gaze at the television, looking as though he were daydreaming about something or other. His fingers fiddled idly with the sleeves of his outfit, glancing downward momentarily. Just when Garland was about to groan at the fact that Brooklyn would not stop watching the filth before him, his slender fingers reached out and pressed the off button.

The man and women leaning in to embrace each other had turned to a blank screen.

Garland sighed in relief.

"Thank you. Although I don't understand why you would watch that to begin with."

Brooklyn frowned briefly and released a deep sigh. He moved from the floor to the couch, sitting beside his companion. Garland couldn't stop watching his every movement. Of course, it had always been like that.

"Garland?" Brooklyn rested his head against Garland's shoulder and gave him a small snuggle. This served to further capture his attention. He shot his companion a sharp yet weary look. Brooklyn smiled relishing Garland's strokes to his hair, the two slumped against the couch. They were becoming increasingly relaxed in each other's presence. That was a good thing, considering what Brooklyn planned to ask.

"Hnn?" While waiting for Brooklyn to respond, Garland glanced at the time. It was late. Certainly much too late for the question that was to follow.

"What's love like?"

Garland made a choking sound, sitting up straight and gazing at Brooklyn in shock. The redhead looked back at him, tilting his head to the side. Garland groaned, but stopped for a moment to consider Brooklyn's situation. Brooklyn didn't really know what love was like. He was likely only asking out of curiosity.

"Well…There are different kinds of love, kind of like there are different kinds of beyblades." Brooklyn arched a brow. "What I mean to say is…loving family members is different than say loving a friend, or a romantic partner. And there's also a big difference between loving and being in love."

Brooklyn paused, sucking on his lower lip lightly. Garland twitched – Brooklyn had the most distracting nervous habits of anyone he had ever come across. Everything he did seemed to ooze sex. Garland supposed he was biased though.

"What's the difference between love and being in love?" he inquired thoughtfully.

"Love is like…being around the person just feels right, I guess. The two click together, support each other, and such. While being in love…" Garland scratched his head. He definitely wasn't the best choice for explaining this. "I've never actually experienced it myself. I hear it's the greatest, and the worst thing someone could possibly go through. Apparently, all you do is think about the other person and you want to be with them all the time. There's a desire to protect them, and the feeling that it would be impossible to live without them."

"And falling in love?..."

Garland winced. This was one that he was actually experiencing. "It's…you're on your way to achieving all the things being in love entails. It's completely frightening, confusing, and difficult. But you just have to put your trust in the way you feel."

Brooklyn studied him closely then quickly asked, "What kind of love do we have?"

Garland sighed. Brooklyn certainly liked to ask tough questions. But it did fill him with a sense of pride to be the first one to teach him these things.

"A very special kind that just the two of us share Brooklyn. It's impossible to put a label to it."

"I see…Hey, Garland?"

Garland watched Brooklyn move closer to him, stroking his arm comfortingly. He wanted Brooklyn to share whatever was on his mind with him, ask him things…Even if it resulted in a great deal of awkward situations.

"Yes Brooklyn?"

"I think I might be falling in love with you."

Garland went completely still, relaxing after properly absorbing the words. "Yeah. Me too Brook."

"You're falling in love with yourself?"

Garland twitched, "No, you."

"Me what?"

"…I'm falling in love with you."

Brooklyn smiled. Garland smiled back.

It was just one of those nights.

One of the greatest nights of their lives.


End file.
